Wolves.

A wolf pack is gathered 'round

Their steamy breaths fill the cold night air with wispy tendrils of white

two wolves facing each other

an old, battle-scarred wolf,

and a young robust one

They snarl, circling 'round

The pungent smell of rotten meat

emanates the fierceness of the two

one pounces

clings to the other's paw bursting its tiny, delicate veins

adrenaline

it snarls

one backs down in submission

hides its bleeding paw

but the law of the wild shows no mercy

the crowd is frothing with drool, ready for a kill

resisting their urge to pounce

Eyes striking, like metal against metal

they circle around each other

the wolf pounces

shot tears into skin, blood gushing out

teeth sink into warm jugulars

black spots appear

The light flows into the bowl of the midnight sky

the pack drags the wolf away, leaving a trail of crimson blood in the snow.

and as dawn rises, the young replaces the old

a new sun, a new day, a new leader.